


we are screaming

by jurassiclouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Date Rape, Drugs, M/M, liam is really out of character sorry, so i thought a warning would be nice, there is vomiting, which is gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:10:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jurassiclouis/pseuds/jurassiclouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam has been putting the drugs into Louis' drinks for months now</p>
            </blockquote>





	we are screaming

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't posted anything here in a while, so I figured why not post a prompt I'm pretty proud of. No beta - sorry!

 

He's in the aftershock now. That's what he likes to call it, the aftershock, because it always entails the violent shaking he can't control. His entire body rocked with tremors that shook down his limbs and spine. Usually after that he would vomit, but not always. Sometimes, he vomits before the aftershock. That's never good, because once he nearly got sick all over Liam’s nice comforter he got as a gift.

Liam still took him, after he was done in the bathroom, before dragging him back into his own flat, Louis practically dead on his arm.

It's become routine. It used to be scary, but now it's not so bad, as long as he sticks to the routine and obeys Liam and doesn't throw up until after. If he doesn't do what he's supposed to it's worse and it hurts too much the next day.

It's nothing like the first time Liam drugged him.

 

****

He'd known his drink tasted funny, that first time. But _Liam_ handed it to him and all the boys were around him, what could possibly be wrong with it? Until he was reaching his hands out blindly for something to anchor him because the ground was on the _ceiling_ and _how did that even happen?_

Liam muttered some worried words to the boys and offered to take him home, walking Louis out with three other pairs of eyes on them.

He allowed Louis to talk the first time, about how he wanted to go the beach and bury himself in the sand, and ‘ _look at the clouds, Liam! It’s going to rain, I bet you five pence!’_

It was fine until Liam threw him to the floor of his apartment and tore his clothes off. And it was fine until Liam pinned him down and did whatever he wanted to him, no matter how much Louis cried and screamed and begged him to stop.

He was invalid, useless, and couldn’t fight back no matter the amount of strength he put in. His limbs weighed a thousand pounds and his mind was reeling and he wasn’t even quite sure it was happening because everything felt like a copy of another copy.

It was fine until Liam whispered into his ear, _'You know you want this, you dumb whore. I'm just doing you a favor.'_

And when it was over, Liam carried him to the bath tub, telling him to wash up because they had to leave early the next morning. He also placed a bottle of pain relief on the counter with a promise of _‘I know you’ll be sore tomorrow.’_

Nothing was different the next morning with anyone else, and he threw off the comments towards his behavior with an excuse of a bad hangover and hope that no one noticed when he flinched at any sort of touch.

Liam usually put the drugs into Louis’ drinks at a night out because the next day, it wouldn’t be questionable if Louis was a little off. But over time, it started to take it’s toll on Louis.

He was covered in handprints on his hips from every angle and deep in his gut was a never leaving feeling of paranoia. Because if Liam could do this to him, what about everybody else? And like Liam had told him once, _‘funny, I’m the last thing you’re ever going to get. No one would want used goods.’_

Louis didn’t think it was that funny.

********  
  
  


He licked his dry and bloodied lips, his head reeling and his stomach churning like a hurricane. He gagged slightly and the liquid from the vodka Liam made him drink a few hours ago made a dramatic reappearance. He tried to spit out the taste and the shame, but he could never get the two out of his system. Liam had personally made sure every inch was used and no good to anyone but him only when he needed it.

He reached almost blindly into the shower, seeing almost four nozzles in front of him instead of one, but he found the handle eventually and turned on the water all the way to the hot side, needing the burn. Crawling into the bath, still completely clothed. He felt so, so tired, but underneath the exhaustion was filth and he needed so desperately to be clean.

He scrubbed his arms and exposed legs, Liam didn’t help him put his jeans back on, so thoroughly, his skin was a violent red when he was done. But he couldn’t even manage to peel the shirt off, everything was so _heavy_ now.

He leaned his (heavy) head against the cool bathtub edge and tried to drift asleep, but it only felt like he drifted up into the air, floating above his tired body.

He didn’t register the door opening or the startled noise or the panicked yells, all he saw was a kaleidoscope of brown, pale, and green. _Harry._

He let out a noise that was pathetic even to his blocked ears and scrambled back when he felt a touch on his arm. “Too tired, no more please,” he begged from as far away as he could.

There was a deep rumbling that Louis knew was supposed to be talking, but he felt himself puking once more before he finally, _finally,_ fell asleep.

********  
  
  


When Louis woke up the next morning, he was sure he had gotten hit by a truck. He rolled onto his feet from the bed and couldn’t even remember anything from the night before this time. The ache in his bones and the scratch in his throat told him that it happened, had to have.

He went out into the kitchen, barely staying on his feet, and clutched the counter before noisily going to make himself a cup of tea.

“Louis!” a voice yelled, startling the already frightened boy.

Louis turned around and when he saw that it was only Harry, he smiled in relief and felt himself slouch a little bit more. “Hey, Haz,” he said, his voice rough and painful.

“What are you doing out of bed? You shouldn’t be on your feet,” Harry said, biting his lip and keeping a safe distance from his friend, who last night he had seen in such a vulnerable position.

“What are you talking about, Harry? I’m just a bit hungover,” Louis said, trying to act as casual as possible. What had happened last night? Why was Harry looking at him like that?

Harry looked like he had been stricken. “Has this been happening all this time? All these months, Lou? All these ‘hangovers’ have been this?” he demanded, getting closer.

Louis flinched back, “What are you talking about?”

When Harry noticed Louis recoil, he bit his lip to calm himself down, for Louis at least. “I-I found you last night, Louis,” he admitted, looking down at the floor before closing his eyes, trying to get the image of Louis passed out covered in his own vomit out of his head. But he couldn’t.

“What? No you didn’t, Haz,” Louis said, shutting down into denial. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liam’s been arrested,” Harry said quietly. “I couldn’t let it happen anymore.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Harry. We have to get him out, now, Harry!” he said desperately.

Harry choked back a sob. “Look what he’s done to you, Louis! Look!” he yelled, searching into Louis’ eyes for a trace of his old best friend, for someone who wasn’t so broken and more importantly _bruised._

“No!” Louis screamed, “He said - he said he would hurt you! My - my _family,_ Harry! The _girls_!”

Harry went up beside him, crossing the tile of the kitchen. “Louis, he can’t hurt anybody, not in jail. He can’t hurt you, Louis.”

Louis felt his eyes well up in tears. It was that simple? It was that easy. No, this had to be some trick! Some sick setup! “Stop lying, Harry! I got used to Liam, but not you too,” he spat, pushing Harry away with the pathetic bought of strength he had left.

“Louis - Louis, please! Look at me, look at me, Louis,” he demanded, his large hands cupping Louis’ cheek. “I promise to you that it’s over. I promise.”

Louis let out a whine, “promises can be broken.” _He knows._

“Not mine.”


End file.
